The Reverend Kao Chun-ming (高俊明), former general secretary of the Presbyterian Church in Taiwan, died on Feb. 14. For many people, their deepest impression of Kao is that he was imprisoned for four-and-a-half years for hiding fugitive dissident Shih Ming-te (施明德) following the 1979 Kaohsiung Incident.
His arrest was a big sensation at the time and made him into a prisoner of consciousness whose name was known worldwide.
His case aroused the concern of pope John Paul II and the Vatican, whose charge d’affaires in Taiwan, Paolo Giglio, visited Kao in prison.
For me, the most legendary thing about Kao is his poem
Watch the Bush of Thorns (莿帕互火燒), which he wrote in prison.
The poem — listed as Hymn 604 in the Presbyterian Church in Taiwan’s 2009 Hymnal — is a moving witness to his faith behind bars.
The melody for the hymn was written by Pastor Loh I-to (駱維道), then-president of the Tainan Theological College and Seminary, and buttresses a lament about the spirit of Taiwanese’s resilient struggle in the midst of hardship. It can be accompanied by a flute or two-stringed fiddle.
Kao’s poem won him Best Lyricist in the traditional arts and music category at the 2006 Golden Melody Awards.
I remember seeing Kao’s appearance at the Golden Melody Awards ceremony, which I watched on television, and hearing him say: “God bless Taiwan.”
Although I am not a Christian, I could not hold back my tears.
Only later did I find out that this poem was written for an assembly of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, and that it expresses the spirit of Calvinist Christianity as symbolized by the burning bush, which is not consumed by the flames.
The poem was also written for a Presbyterian Church in Taiwan suffering from political persecution to inspire the faithful not to lose hope in the face of adversity.
Kao’s poem, as translated by Jim Minchin, reads as follows:
Watch the bush of thorns being licked by fierce flame —
The bush is not consumed, but still stays the same.
Watch the burning bush, by God’s will kept whole:
When Christians face hard trial, love’s power nerves their soul.
When fire and heat subside, seed growth soon resumes;
The spring wakes what had died, and bring forth new blooms.
Watch the suffering thorns: though burning still alive —
If persecution strikes, then Christ’s Church revives!
Courage fills our hearts as Jesus Christ’s friends!
With him in test of fire, our faith finds true strength.
When I heard the news of Kao’s death, the melody of Watch the Bush of Thorns welled up inside me.
Pastor Loh wrote the melody in 1985 in the form of a traditional Taiwanese lament, and in 1993 he arranged it into a chorus.
A Taiwanese lament is emotional, but also a kind of culture and art. In Loh’s composition, it gave full expression to Kao’s spirit and emotions.
Kao lived through many trials and tribulations. He worked hard to speak out for Taiwan on the world stage. He did his utmost to promote higher education for Aborigines, as well as theological education.
Although he has left us now, he bequeaths to us many intangible assets.
Watch the Bush of Thorns is a song that every Taiwanese should know how to sing and enjoy, and it is a lesson in how not to lose hope, even in the most difficult of times.
Chen Hsiu-li is chairwoman of the Spring Wind Cultural Company.
Translated by Julian Clegg
They did it again. For the whole world to see: an image of a Taiwan flag crushed by an industrial press, and the horrifying warning that “it’s closer than you think.” All with the seal of authenticity that only a reputable international media outlet can give. The Economist turned what looks like a pastiche of a poster for a grim horror movie into a truth everyone can digest, accept, and use to support exactly the opinion China wants you to have: It is over and done, Taiwan is doomed. Four years after inaccurately naming Taiwan the most dangerous place on
Wherever one looks, the United States is ceding ground to China. From foreign aid to foreign trade, and from reorganizations to organizational guidance, the Trump administration has embarked on a stunning effort to hobble itself in grappling with what his own secretary of state calls “the most potent and dangerous near-peer adversary this nation has ever confronted.” The problems start at the Department of State. Secretary of State Marco Rubio has asserted that “it’s not normal for the world to simply have a unipolar power” and that the world has returned to multipolarity, with “multi-great powers in different parts of the
President William Lai (賴清德) recently attended an event in Taipei marking the end of World War II in Europe, emphasizing in his speech: “Using force to invade another country is an unjust act and will ultimately fail.” In just a few words, he captured the core values of the postwar international order and reminded us again: History is not just for reflection, but serves as a warning for the present. From a broad historical perspective, his statement carries weight. For centuries, international relations operated under the law of the jungle — where the strong dominated and the weak were constrained. That
The Executive Yuan recently revised a page of its Web site on ethnic groups in Taiwan, replacing the term “Han” (漢族) with “the rest of the population.” The page, which was updated on March 24, describes the composition of Taiwan’s registered households as indigenous (2.5 percent), foreign origin (1.2 percent) and the rest of the population (96.2 percent). The change was picked up by a social media user and amplified by local media, sparking heated discussion over the weekend. The pan-blue and pro-China camp called it a politically motivated desinicization attempt to obscure the Han Chinese ethnicity of most Taiwanese.